After the Fall
by nlizzette7
Summary: Freddie Mclair isn't dead, and it's time for him to come back home. Back to Effy. This is an alternate ending to episode 4x08, a continuation of the epic romance between Freddie Mclair and Effy Stonem. Rated T for language and adult situations in future chapters.
1. Out of the Dark

"Pull me out from inside. I am ready. I am ready. I am ready. I am fine." **– Counting Crows (****_Colorblind_****) **

* * *

**_Freddie_**

In the darkness, he saw Effy. Always Effy.

He saw the crinkle in her brow. He saw her million secret smile. He saw her beautiful scar – the empty moon on her forehead. He saw her eyes, so intense and never faltering.

He saw his mum, too. You know, _before_. Sometimes he saw his father and Karen. Cook. JJ. His life. These people were his life, and now his life was flashing before his eyes.

Effy had been right all along. He was a long time dead.

He didn't know what time it was, only that the sun was setting for the second time since he'd been in John Foster's basement. And he might not live to see it rise again the next day.

Maybe he was dead already. Maybe his soul was trying to find its way…_out_, some horror film plot like that. No. That sick fuck Foster liked to remind Freddie that he was alive. Barely alive. He'd stripped him of his clothes, leaving him shivering in boxers, tied to a heater that burned his wrists whenever Foster felt like switching the generator on.

He was tired. Blood filtered his vision, bones were broken, his breath came in long, heavy rasps. Most of the time, he was unconscious, with empty dreams. No, not always empty. Effy was in them. All of his memories were Effy.

He dreamt that Effy was waiting for him, standing there in the darkness. Her hair was tangled in knots, and she was covered in dirt. Black makeup framed her eyes. She looked so young and scared. But every time Freddie tried to reach her, he just couldn't. And it was horrible.

She screamed his name. _Freddie! Freddie, I need you! Freddie, please come back._

With every ache in his body, every inch of blood that pooled from his cuts, Effy got farther away. Harder to see.

_I'm going to take care of you now. I promise. _

It was a promise that he would never get to –

He heard a thump – feet against the cement floor. Fucking Foster. Freddie pulled against the ties on his wrists in vain. Tears pooled in his eyes. _Fuck_. It was useless. His arms just ached in protest, the bone in his shoulder popped at an unnatural angle. He was never going to escape. He was just a prisoner in Hell.

He closed his eyes and waited for the devil.

But the light didn't flicker on. Instead, the room stayed silent and a soft breeze tickled his chest. Cool breeze. _Late night_ breeze. The bloody window was open. Someone had climbed in through the window.

Freddie swallowed back blood, mustering up the strength to slide back an inch. _Fucking _hell. That hurt. He strained his head, eyes darting like mad in the darkness.

And he found hope. He found hope in the form of spiky blonde hair, cruddy jeans, and a polo with its collar propped up. His best friend. Cook. _His best friend, Cook._

Freddie blinked. This couldn't be real. He was imagining it - he had to be. This was some messed up hallucination, and he was going to wake up again. Probably to Foster's face. That wanker.

There was no way – but his eyes opened, and Cook was still there, rifling through boxes. Making _too much noise_. Freddie parted his lips, testing his voice.

_Cook_. Nothing.

Freddie heard footsteps on the other side of the wall. Footsteps that Cook didn't hear.

_Cook, he's coming. Run. _Nothing at all. The footsteps were getting closer, so close. Foster was going to find Cook. Foster was going to kill them both. Then he'd find Effy. The door creaked open – a stiff, white hand felt for the light.

Not his best friend. Not Cook.

"Get out, Cook."

Freddie's voice echoed in the room, and Cook turned around, not seeing him. But seeing Foster just in time.

_"What have you done?"_

_"Don't be stupid, Cook. She told me all about you, too. There was much to correct in that girl. I almost managed it. Perhaps I still can."_

Like hell he would. Freddie bit his lip as he continued to pull against his restraints. He couldn't make a noise. Cook was all about instinct. He'd turn around, try to help Freddie, and Foster would raise that bat…

_"You, you did something to my friend?"_

_"This is wasting time. Would you kneel down please?"_

_"Mr. Foster."_

A smile almost formed on Freddie's lips. Almost. Only Cook would think that this was a bloody joke. He always had to challenge everyone he came across. Freddie had always hated that, being in the shadow of the "Cookie Monster" – always getting them in trouble with his brute force. But now, now it just might save them both.

A grunt caught Freddie's attention. Foster's? No. Cook flew back into the pile of boxes. No, no, _no_.

But Cook began to laugh. And so did Freddie. That crazy bloke, always laughing in the face of fear.

_"I don't think you know what I am, mate."_

_"I think I do. You're nothing. You don't deserve that girl. And, you know, I do."_

Was he fucking mental? That's what this was about? As if he'd ever lay a hand on Eff. Even in his wildest dreams. Freddie's fists curled, and his nostrils flared. The ties begin to snap against the heater.

_"I'm a fucking waste of space. I'm just a stupid kid. I've got no sense. Criminal. I'm no fucking use, mate. I am nothing."_

No, Cook, Freddie thought. You're much more than that. You're my best friend. JJ's too. Effy loves you. We all need you. You're the third musketeer.

_"So please. Please, get it into your, you know, into your bonce. That you killed my friend."_

"I'm right here," Freddie whispered, huffing as he pulled against the restraints one more time. "I'm alive."

_"And…I'm Cook. I'M COOK!"_

A sickening crunch filled the room, just as Freddie's wrists were freed. And then there was silence.

His heart stopped, and he didn't dare to look right away. If Cook was dead and Foster was alive, it was over. There was no chance. He was done. But if –

Freddie heard footsteps again. He sat up slowly, ready to face Foster…or fucking hug Cook. His ribs ached, and his back cracked. A dark figure crossed in front of him, and dropped to his knees in front of the basement window. Freddie rubbed his eyes, trying to get a better look.

And then he saw him.

Holy shit.

* * *

**Next Time:**

She took another drag of her cigarette, holding the smoke in and closing her eyes for a moment. In the darkness she saw Freddie, always Freddie. She saw that floppy hair, the crooked grin, eyes that looked right past her cool exterior and saw _her_.

She opened her eyes, and he was gone. _Release_.

Freddie's birthday party was becoming more of a sleepover. She rolled her eyes at Panda and Tommo, draped over each other on a blanket. They nuzzled each other's noses like bugging farm animals. It'd taken them a whole month to get off their arses and admit that they were meant for each other. The idiots.

But Effy was one to talk.


	2. I'd Find You

"If I wait long enough now, will you come to me? Will you come to me? So far away, but right beside me." **– The Donnis Trio (****_Tip of the Tongue_****)**

* * *

**_Effy_**

Before Freddie, she believed that she'd been born backwards. That she was some wayward soul that had accidentally been set loose in the world. Inside, she was empty. She didn't feel the things she was supposed to. She was an odd end. Everyone belonged somewhere, but Effy never did.

Until Freddie. _The hole that fit hers. _ He'd turned the stone girl into…into _love_. He'd made her laugh. And not that sarcastic, _eat shit_ smirk that she'd perfected over the years. Freddie was everything that poets wrote about and singers sang about. He'd brought light into her world.

But nothing good ever stayed with Effy. Maybe she was more like Cook than she'd ever wanted to admit before. They were both reckless and careless – shitting on everything good that came into their lives. They'd both sabotaged themselves, although Effy's prison had white walls rather than silver bars. They'd both thought only of themselves – their needs, their happiness, their satisfaction. They'd both pushed Freddie until he finally walked away.

She took another drag of her cigarette, holding the smoke in and closing her eyes for a moment. In the darkness she saw Freddie, always Freddie. She saw that floppy hair, the crooked grin, eyes that looked right past her cool exterior and saw _her_.

She opened her eyes, and he was gone. _Release_.

Freddie's birthday party was becoming more of a sleepover. She rolled her eyes at Panda and Tommo, draped over each other on a blanket. They nuzzled each other's noses like bugging farm animals. It'd taken them a whole month to get off their arses and admit that they were meant for each other. The idiots.

But Effy was one to talk.

She spied Emily playing with Naomi's hair, JJ and Katie passing a spliff back and forth. Karen hadn't gotten the "party's over" memo and was still shaking her bum in front of the radio. Effy shook her head and took another drag. Someone was missing. Besides the birthday boy himself, of course. There was an eery silence around the gang. A calm that wasn't usually there.

Cook.

Effy sat up, scanning the room. He'd gone off to take a piss and hadn't come back. So he was gone too. This, she was used to. Cook came in and out of people's lives like a bloody virus, waiting till things were normal again before he came and rained on everyone's parade. She guessed that his job was done here. Freddie was gone. That was his ultimate triumph, wasn't it?

A flash of red caught her eye. Stomping out the cigarette, Effy pried Freddie's notebook out from under their pile of coats. She traced over the words again with the tip of her finger, flipping through the pages. She could almost see him at the dining table, his hair all scruffy and his eyes barely open. He's supposed to be doing coursework, he's supposed to be focused.

_But he loves her. He loves her. He loves her. He loves her._

_Well fuck, Freddie,_ she thought. She angrily rubbed her eyes, destroying the tears before they even came. _If you loved me so much, why'd you go?_

She tossed the book on the ground in front of her. What was the use? She would never know now. Freddie wasn't all flippy like Cook. Cook always came back. He never meant a word he said, and his emotions changed as quickly as the weather. But Freddie – it took too much for Freddie to leave. The same way you could count on him being _there_, you could count on him leaving for good.

Freddie never did anything he didn't mean.

Unlike Effy, who picked the book right back up from the floor. She wouldn't be a child anymore. She wouldn't go making stupid lists and smoldering stares. She stared down at the pages again, but there was something different.

_I love her. I love her. I love her. _

**_John Foster wants to hurt her._**

Effy let out a breath. She was a smart girl. She knew what that meant – what that could mean. This time, she didn't stop the tear from rolling down her cheek. She was paralyzed.

"You alright then, Eff?" Panda asked, raising her head. _I'm not alright. I'm not alright. I'm not alright. _

"I'm – "

Her phone began to ring, and she nearly jumped across the room to get to it. The whole room was focused on her now, probably worried that she was going mental again. That's what she was now, the crazy girl. Off her rockers.

She didn't care. Just Freddie. Only Freddie.

Cook's name flashed on the screen. Cook. Cook, not Freddie. _CooknotFreddie._ _Alright then, Effy. Keep it together. Answer the phone._

"Cook. What's –"

"Effy, he needs you." Tears in his voice. Tears mean…tears always mean….

"Where do I go?"

* * *

She hadn't been to this hospital since her brother was hit by a bus. Two years. It felt like ages ago, but she navigated her way through the ICU as if she'd been there every day of her life. It was like there were voices in the hall, leading the way, taking her to him. Good voices for once.

"Excuse me, miss. This section's for relatives only, I'm afraid."

"My brother," Effy barely said, pushing past the woman in blue scrubs. Tony's face blurred with Freddie's, the only two. The only two.

She ran, looking into each room, desperately looking for the boy with the hazel eyes, the black hair. Beds and death and sorrow were everywhere. And that beeping noise, that fucking beeping noise was holding it all together.

She ran and ran and ran straight into –

"Cook! Where is he?"

Cook took her arm and pulled her into a dimly lit room, the last one in the hall. There was that beeping noise again, but this was the most important one. It told her that there was life. It told her that there was _Freddie._

And there he was, looking right at her through bruised eyes, one lid spliced open by a blistered cut. Effy let out a cry. She remembered the words she'd screamed out just three days ago. _I'm not scared. I want to be scared._

She was scared. She was so scared.

The parts of Freddie that weren't bandaged were mangled, completely. His face was caved in on one side, and his neck was wrapped in one of those bloody braces – like in the movies. He was stitched and battered and ruined.

And it was her fault.

She knelt by the bed beside him, too afraid to touch him. Tears kept falling, and she didn't know what to do. She always did, and now she didn't. Now he was crying too.

"Eff," he murmured, barely a whisper. "I wasn't going to leave you. I wasn't."

She wanted to say, _please don't. You shouldn't. You don't have to. _But she couldn't say any of those things. She couldn't find words of her own, so he borrowed his.

"Shh," she whispered. "We're together. We'll be together." She gingerly touched his face, collecting the tears on his cheeks with the tip of her finger. He looked up at her and pursed his lips.

"No," he said. Effy's heart stopped.

No? _He said no. Hesaidno?_

"What? Why?"

He paused, and Effy swore that his cut lips were curling into a pained smile.

"Because I'll break your heart."

They both looked at each other through a haze of tears, memories, and pain. They stared at each other, just like they used to. Waiting. And then Effy found laughter through her tears. She knew now. They could be alright. This would be alright.

"Maybe," she said, finding her breath and meeting his amused eyes. "I'll break yours."

* * *

**Next Time:**

_"Effy!" Freddie screamed, pulling at the chains on the wall with all of the force he could muster up. "Let her go. I'll kill you, Foster. I'll fucking_ _kill you."_

_"No, no, Frederick. It's not me who's dying today," Foster said. Effy stood next to him, hands wrapped up in silver duct tape. She stared down at the floor in front of her. "You see, I thought that I could just erase you from her memory. I thought that would work. But I was clearly mistaken. Elizabeth just can't seem to forget you, no matter what I do. So, I have to get rid of you. Erase you for good."_

_"What the fuck are you talking about? And what did you do to her? Why isn't she talking?"_

_"Calm down, Frederick. Elizabeth is fine. And she's about to be cured. Look up for me now, darling," Foster said, lifting Effy's face by her chin. She groaned, confused. Her face was all scratched up, and she had a black eye. She looked around, trying to figure out where she was. Finally, her eyes found Freddie._


	3. Wake Me Up

"Let the sky fall. When it crumbles, we will stand tall and face it all together. At skyfall." **–Adele (****_Skyfall_****)**

* * *

**_Freddie_**

It always started the same way.

_Freddie woke up in the darkness. His hands were chained to the wall, and all he felt was pain. Pain. More pain. He tried to scream, but his throat was numb. He couldn't move anything, and he was spiraling into death. He could feel it. Help. He just needed help._

_"Hello, Frederick," John Foster whispered. A spotlight came on, illuminating the man in the middle of the room. Foster paced in front of him, hands clasped behind his back. He had a cold smile on his face. "Welcome back."_

_"Fuck off," Freddie groaned, pulling at the chains._

_"Tsk, tsk," Foster chuckled, shaking his head. "I was hoping that you would show more decorum than your old pal Cook did."_

_Freddie paused, narrowing his eyes at Foster. _

_"Cook? Where is he? What did you do to him?" This time, Foster let a laugh loose._

_"Don't be so naïve, Freddie. Cook is dead," Foster replied calmly. He walked forward until he was only a step away from Freddie. "I killed him slowly, made sure it hurt. I'm surprised that his screams didn't wake you. It was a pity, really. All the fun I could've had, but I just had to shut him up."_

_Freddie's nostrils flared, and he could feel blood rising to his face._

_"Does that make you upset, Freddie?" Foster asked, poking his chest, dead center. "Does it anger you that I killed your friend? That I have his blood on my hands? That I – "_

_Spit flew from Freddie's mouth and splattered across Foster's face. Foster hissed, instinctively raising his fist above Freddie's face. Freddie flinched, bracing himself._

_But the punch didn't come. Instead, Foster pulled a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and cleaned his face. He smiled sweetly before pulling away and walking to the other side of the room._

_"We have a special visitor today, Freddie," Foster called out, opening a door. Streams of light filtered into the room, revealing the familiar boxes and rickety furniture in Foster's basement. He was back here. He was back where he was. Freddie watched as he reached for a pair of hands and pulled somebody into the room._

_Black dress. Tangled brown hair. Icy blue eyes._

_Effy._

_"Effy!" Freddie screamed, pulling at the chains on the wall with all of the force he could muster up. "Let her go. I'll kill you, Foster. I'll fucking_ _kill you."_

_"No, no, Frederick. It's not me who's dying today," Foster said. Effy stood next to him, hands wrapped up in silver duct tape. She stared down at the floor in front of her. "You see, I thought that I could just erase you from her memory. I thought that would work. But I was clearly mistaken. Elizabeth just can't seem to forget you, no matter what I do. So, I have to get rid of you. Erase you for good."_

_"What the fuck are you talking about? And what did you do to her? Why isn't she talking?"_

_"Calm down, Frederick. Elizabeth is fine. And she's about to be cured. Look up for me now, darling," Foster said, lifting Effy's face by her chin. She groaned, confused. Her face was all scratched up, and she had a black eye. She looked around, trying to figure out where she was. Finally, her eyes found Freddie._

_At first, she said nothing. Her stare was blank, like she didn't even know who he was. Then recognition lit up her features. She tried to fight the restraints around her wrists, she tried to run to Freddie, but Foster was one step ahead. Always one step ahead. He grasped her hair, pulling her back._

_"Freddie," she cried. "Freddie, help me."_

_"Effy, it's alright. Just calm down. It's going to be okay."_

_"It is going to be okay, Elizabeth," Foster said. He grasped Effy's arm with one hand and pulled something from his pocket with the other. Something silver. Something sharp. A knife. "I need you to watch for me now."_

_After that, everything happened in a blur. The knife came forward, blood splattered, Freddie felt a blinding, searing pain. Through it all, Effy screamed, she shrieked. But he couldn't get to her, he couldn't help her._

_"Freddie, no!"_

_It's okay, Eff. _

_"Leave him alone, fucker."_

_You have to run now. You have to escape._

_"Freddie – "_

"Freddie? Freddie, wake up."

Freddie's eyes shot open. The darkness was replaced by daylight. A cluttered desk and a wall of rock band posters replaced the cold, dank basement. Effy was staring down at him, concern all over her face. No bruises, no cuts, just worry.

"Where am I?" he whispered, trying to sit up. Effy put a light hand on his chest to stop him.

"The hospital finally released you, remember? You're home now."

"And Cook is…"

"Downstairs, napping on your couch. He's in a shitload of trouble for breaking out of jail, but they're re-trying his sentence. He's alright. You're alright." Freddie relaxed, tilting his head back and staring up at the ceiling. It had only been a dream. Just a fucking nightmare. Effy put a hand on his cheek and stroked his face.

"And…and Foster?"

"In jail. He's locked up. He can't hurt you now, Freds. He can't hurt any of us," she said, trying to reassure him. But Freddie didn't look at her.

"Is this what my life is going to be now? Nightmares and cold sweats and Foster's face in my head _all the time_? I can't even move, for fuck's sake. He should've just killed me when he had the chance."

"Don't you dare say that, Freddie. Don't you fucking dare. What are you saying? That you'd rather be dead? You'd rather be dead than here with me." Freddie shook his head and turned his head to look at her.

"That's not what I meant, Eff."

"Well, that was a bloody horrible thing to say. Don't you _ever _think that way again." A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away furiously. Freddie felt something break in his chest, but it wasn't one of his many injuries. His bones could be broken, his face could be bruised, but seeing Effy crying hurt him worst of all. He raised his shaky fingers and slid them down her face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so fucking sorry."

Effy just nodded, leaning into his touch. She closed her eyes, and they sat there in silence

"You know," she finally said, sitting up. "I used to read my brother these stories when he had nightmares after his accident." Her eyes lit up like a little kid who'd just thought of a brilliant idea. Freddie smiled.

"Yeah, alright. I'd like that," he said.

"Brilliant. We can pick a book then, yeah?" She walked over to his shelves, excitedly sorting through his very small collection of novels. "You've got Shakespeare here. I mean, the bloke's bloody boring in my opinion. And _so _not romantic. I mean, the wankers killed themselves three days after they met each other? Sounds like – "

"Effy," Freddie interrupted, laughing. "Come here. Come sit next to me." Effy dropped the books and carefully lied beside him on the bed. She was so cautious, so caring. _So this was love. So this was what it meant to be loved._

"What's wrong? I thought you wanted a story," Effy said, tilting her head in confusion. Freddie smiled, smoothing the wrinkle between her brows with the tip of his finger.

"I'd like to hear a new story. A story that's true," Freddie said. Effy nodded, smiling sadly. And then she began.

"Once upon a time," she said, "there was a girl who had no heart. Then a boy came along and changed everything."

* * *

**Next Time:**

"Thought you told Freds that you were done with the high life," Cook said, raising an eyebrow at her. Effy shook her head, staring down at the ground.

"The truth hurts, you know? And Freddie's already in enough pain. Now give it here." Cook passed her the spliff and watched as she pressed it to her lips. _Inhale. Breathe it in. Breathe it all in. Exhale. _She passed it back to him, and he could almost taste her lips on it.

"You ever wonder why things turned out the way they did?" he asked her.

"What do you mean?"

"Why all this shit happened. Why the three of us all had to be there that morning - the morning your dad hit that pole. And why...why you ended up with Freddie, while I'm the one with a one-way ticket to the jailhouse," Cook said, lost in thought. He stared at the water in front of them and shook his head.

"Maybe it's your turn," Effy replied, taking the spliff back.

"My turn? For what?"

"Your turn to be the one on the sidelines. All those years, you were the center of their world. You got everything, and Freds was there to clean up your mess and take care of you."

"I didn't - "

"So now maybe the world is trying to say that it's _your _turn to take care of him. Just like it's mine," Effy replied, taking one last drag before shaking herself off and heading back inside.


	4. Breathe Me

"I wish that I was strong enough to lift not one but both of us. Someday I will be strong enough to lift not one but both of us." **– B.O.B (****_Both of Us_****)**

* * *

**_Effy_**

Effy hated falling asleep. She hated the moment right before, really. It was in the darkness on those hazy nights that every bad memory, every regret, every misspoken word she'd ever said came barreling at her.

She was drowning in it.

It had been three weeks since Freddie had been sent home, but her heart was just as weak as it had been the day she'd gotten that breathless phone call from Cook.

_Effy's fault._

Freddie was Freddie, but he wasn't. He was walking again, sometimes even sitting in the shed instead of his room. On the best days, he went outside. But the sun made him tired, and he wasn't ready to see the others.

_Effy's fault._

_Hamlet _and raise it a million and skull bracelets and first kisses and paper swans were all slipping away.

Silent nights and sad stares and _hand me that glass of water _was replacing all of it.

_Effy's fault, Effy's fault, Effy's fault._

She didn't know that love could be nothing and everything all at once.

Effy rolled over in bed. This wasn't right. John Foster _had _been successful in one thing. The old Effy was gone, but she wasn't sure who this new person was. She wasn't sure if the new Effy loved. Or could be loved.

Where would they go from here? What were they without games and uncertainty and drugged up sex on every surface of her house? What were they after you peeled off all of the bullshit?

How long would it take for everything to get all fucked up again?

She could tell that Freddie was thinking the same thing. They were getting used to each other, tiptoeing around passion, not sure where to go next. It was Effy's turn to be the strong one. She was the one who had to take his hand, bathe him, fill up the emptiness. She tried. She did. It made her forget to be weak, but it left her empty and exhausted by the end of the day.

Why did one of them always have to be ruined? Why couldn't they be equal? Why couldn't they take care of each other?

Effy sat up in bed. She couldn't do this. She couldn't just _lie _there, thinking. She needed to feel. She needed to know that they still existed.

* * *

Effy found herself on Freddie's doorstep for the millionth time in her life. It was too late for knocking. She didn't want to wake up his father, and she didn't need another withering glare from Karen (_Effy's fault_).

Effy tried the knob, but it wouldn't budge. Fuck.

"Well, well. If it isn't our dear old friend, Eff," called out a voice in the darkness. Effy gasped, raising her hand to her heart. _Foster. Run. RUN._

Then she heard an all too familiar drunken chuckle. Effy remained paralyzed, squinting into the darkness. Slumped against the opening to the Mclairs' garden was a blonde boy in mugged up clothing, drunk off his arse.

"Jesus _fucking _Christ, Cook. What the fuck is it that you're trying to do? And why are you laying here outside?" Effy hissed, kicking at his shoe. More laughter. Everything was just a total fucking joke to this prick.

"_Oh_, calm down then babe. Just having a bit of fun."

"I'm in the right mind to call your probation officer and have him drag you away," Effy spat. She began to turn around, find another way inside, until she noticed the whiff of smoke escape from Cook's parted lips.

She hesitated, torn. She hadn't smoked for three weeks. Freddie wasn't allowed to, and she didn't want to upset him. She was trying to make a point. She didn't have to be the mental, drug-induced Effy in order to be with Freddie.

She didn't.

Did she?

But a few drags wouldn't hurt. _Just to calm her nerves. Just to breathe. _

"Pass me the spliff, Cook," she murmured, squatting on the dry patches of cobblestone.

"Thought you told Freds that you were done with the high life," Cook said, raising an eyebrow at her. Effy shook her head, staring down at the ground.

"The truth hurts, you know? And Freddie's already in enough pain. Now give it here." Cook passed her the spliff and watched as she pressed it to her lips. _Inhale. Breathe it in. Exhale. Let it out. _She passed it back to him, and he could almost taste her lips on it.

"You ever wonder why things turned out the way they did?" he asked her.

"What do you mean?"

"Why all this shit happened. Why the three of us all had to be there that morning - the morning your dad hit that pole. And why...why you ended up with Freddie, while I'm the one with a one-way ticket to the jailhouse," Cook said, lost in thought. He stared at the wall in front of them and shook his head.

"Maybe it's your turn," Effy replied, taking the spliff back.

"My turn? For what?"

"Your turn to be the one on the sidelines. All those years, you were the center of their world. You got everything, and Freds was there to clean up your mess and take care of you."

"I didn't - "

"So now maybe the world is trying to say that it's _your _turn to take care of him. Just like it's mine," Effy replied, taking one last drag before shaking herself off and heading back inside.

"Eff, wait," Cook called out to her. Effy stopped, not turning around. _Just listening_. "You're not the same. You were always…good. But now you're better."

"Yeah, Cook. You too," Effy whispered, letting out a breath.

"And Eff?"

"Yeah?"

"It's still hard for me. Nothing's fixed, you know? I just…"

"Yeah, Cook," she repeated. "Me too."

She raised her hand over the door, poised to knock, but the door opened before her knuckles scratched the wood.

"Are you two fucking mental? What are you doing out here so late?" Freddie stood in front of them in flannel pajamas and a crinkled white t-shirt. Sleep was all over his face, and it was adorable. _Freddie, not Cook. FreddienotCook._ "Eff, I don't want you outside. Okay? I don't want you by yourself at night."

"Cook was here," she whispered.

"Yeah," he said, narrowing his eyes at Cook's amused grin. "Cook always just happens to be there." He beckoned them inside and locked the door behind them.

"So then," Cook started. "Anyone fancy some Scotch? For old time's sake."

"Freddie can't fucking drink, Cook," Effy said, rolling her eyes.

"Right. Sorry, mate."

Freddie shrugged his shoulders, staring at the ground.

"Besides," Effy said, "Freddie and I are off to bed. You should do the same. Even _superheroes_ need their rest." Cook grinned. It was the first time that Effy had let a smile loose in his direction since…he couldn't even remember when.

And he couldn't help but notice that she threw one last glance in his direction before following Freddie up the stairs.

* * *

"No, don't turn on the light," Effy whispered as Freddie shut the door to his bedroom. The moonlight outlined Freddie's skin. So tall. So beautiful. So Freddie.

She needed to show him. She needed to -

It was like an unspoken language. There was no need for words or explanations or questions. There was no hesitation in Freddie's steps towards her, or Effy's hands on his chest. On his arms. In his hair. It was Effy pressing against his bed, and Freddie pressing against Effy. And everything came back.

_You can take anything if you want it enough._

"Take me," she whispered. And then there was the flutter of fabric, the tear of a shirt she didn't care about anyway, and the grip of Freddie's fingers on her hips. And him against her. And pleasure. It lit something inside of her as they moved together in the darkness. Her eyes were wide open, trained on his.

_Now I've told you, okay? Now you know._

"I love you, I love you, I fucking love you," he panted against her skin. Her head slammed against the pillow, her fingers in his hair anchoring her to this moment. Right there, right then.

He let out a harsh breath and everything was faster. It was like, _Freddie please _and _Effy, oh God. _And everything was building to…to…

_I just want to feel something._

He cried out, slamming his hands down on either side of her head, smashing his lips against hers, a tear falling from his eye to meet the ones pouring from hers. And there was a pause as the stars fell and Freddie fell and Effy did too. And there was no breathing, no talking, just that moment.

She understood now. She did. Her fingers trailed down his back, and his face fell into the crook of her neck.

_That's exactly what love is supposed to do._

* * *

**Next Time:**

"I saved your _fucking _life, mate," Cook said, tossing his drink to the side. Freddie shook his head, blowing smoke in Cook's face. The whole room was looking at them now. Low music played in the background. JJ shifted nervously on his feet. Effy placed her hand on Freddie's shoulder.

"Freddie - " she whispered.

"That's just like you, Cook," Freddie spat, pushing Cook backwards. "Nothing with you is free. You saved my life? Do you own my fucking soul now, then? Then I'd like to collect payment for the time you shagged my sister. Or all of the times you almost got JJ and me killed. Or how about the fact that you _fucked _the love of my life with no shame." Every one of Cook's crimes came with another shove against his chest.

"Yeah? The love of your life? She wasn't talking that way an hour ago," Cook said, smiling. "Were you, cupcake?"

"Cook, don't," Effy whispered. A hush fell across the room.

"Effy, what the fuck is he talking about?"


	5. Take It Back

"Never thought I'd live to see the day when everybody's words got in the way." **– Neon Trees (****_Everybody Talks_****)**

* * *

**_Freddie_**

"_Freddie_, come on. We have to get ready. We have to…oh…_oh_…"

Freddie would never get tired of this.

He and Effy had been living like hermits in his room, shagging and reading and eating and then dropping all of it to shag again.

He loved the moment before, the anticipation of what was about to happen, the way she gave him that pointed _look _before they fell back against the bed, the wall, the carpet. He loved the moment during, when she had her eyes shut tight and the world was exploding all around them and Effy took him there. He loved the moment after, after they both came down and the ghost of a smile appeared on her lips.

He loved everything.

He loved her. And in turn, she consumed him. She was like a drug, never enough and always too much. With Effy, there was never time for nervous dates or trips to the arcade or wasted time. With Effy, it had to be _always, all the time _or nothing at all.

They weren't interrupted often. They muffled their giggles under the comforter whenever his father's heavy steps passed on the opposite side of the door. When Karen wasn't bitching at them for "turning their house into a porn palace", she was off rehearsing for a new series, Miss Sexteen – a spinoff of Sex Bomb. _Good riddens._

And Cook…where the fuck was Cook anyway? Freddie had assumed that Cook was tired of hearing their love-fest (_wasn't his fault that the den was straight under Freddie's room_) and had claimed the shed as his own.

But Cook hardly made it home at night and never came around during the day. It's not like Freddie minded, but there was something worrisome about it.

Every explosion started with quiet. Everything was always _so _good before it was bad.

"Freddie, right there," Effy whispered, bringing him back to the moment. He smiled, watching her eyes roll back.

_Tick._

"Right _where_?" he asked, lips trailing from her ear to her neck to…

_Tick._

"Oh look, it's my two best mates, Eff and Freds, doing the dirty. Shall I get a snack for the show?"

_BOOM._

"_Fuck_, Cook," Freddie screamed, pulling his hands away from Effy and moving to shield her body from Cook's eyes. "What the fuck are you doing here? You disappear for days, then you barge into my fucking room?"

Cook laughed, coming to sit down next to them on the bed. He planted himself right between them, and Freddie's blood boiled. Always Cook. _Fucking _Cook.

"I've been busy. I'm sure you understand," Cook said, winking at Freddie. "You can come in babe." All three of them trained their attention to the doorway. A high heeled foot stepped in, followed by a skin-tight shift dress, then a head of ruby red hair…

"_Katie?_" Effy's jaw dropped as Katie came in and took Cook's hand.

"Jesus," Freddie sighed, dropping his face into hands. _Just go away. Just fucking go away._

"It's time you met my new woman then," Cook said, waggling his eyebrows. Freddie shook his head, refusing to speak. This was un-fucking-real.

"I think we've all bloody met here," Effy hissed, reaching over for one of Freddie's shirts and slipping it on. There was an uncomfortable silence as Effy glared at Cook, Cook shot a smug grin in Freddie's direction, and Freddie…Freddie desperately glanced around for a smoke.

Katie cleared her throat.

"Cookie and I were just wondering if you wanted to come along with us to our form's bash. You know, celebrate the start of summer and all. We figured… well, we're all best mates here, yeah?"

"Katie, I don't think that's such a good idea," Effy said, rubbing her temples. Freddie glanced at her. She was trying to shift away from Cook's hand on her knee. _What the fuck?_

Freddie reached for an old bottle of Vodka that had rolled under his nightstand ages ago. _Fuck it. Fuck the doctor's orders. Fuck Katie. Fuck Cook. Fuck it all to hell. _He took a swig, gulping back the strew of curse words he had in mind.

"Yeah," he said, hooking a tight arm over Cook's shoulders. "Let's make it a _fucking _party then."

* * *

The party was just getting started when the four of them barreled into the pub. Everyone from their old form was there, lazily clinking drinks and swaying against bar stools. Techno played from a crap stereo in the corner and half blown balloons were floating across the floor.

Yeah, just getting started.

The gang halted in their tracks when they spotted the two couples at the doorway. Panda shot Effy a confused glance, to which she just shrugged, walking off in search of a drink. Naomi raised her eyebrows and stifled a chuckle. Emily was there in a flash, grabbing Katie's wrist to pull her off to the side.

_This was going to be a shitload of fun._

"Why the _fuck _are you doing this, Cook?" Freddie asked, turning to him once they were alone. That content grin hadn't left his face since they'd left Freddie's house. "This is supposed to be everyone's last summer. Our summer of freedom. Why are you trying to cause so much shit when everyone's just trying to have fun?"

"Nothing wrong with burning a few bridges before they lock me up," Cook shrugged.

"_That's _what this is about? You think you've got nothing to lose? Well just because you feel like fucking up everyone else's life – "

"Cook…Freddie…you're both here. All _three _of us are here. A reunion of sorts for us musketeers, eh?" JJ called. Freddy relaxed his fingers. They'd curled into a fist while he was yelling at Cook, and it scared him. Never mind. At least one thing was normal. JJ had the same goofy grin on his face as he handed them both drinks and passed Freddie the spliff in his hand.

"Yeah, JJ. Cheers," Freddie relented, taking a steady drag. He felt his pulse slow as he caught up with JJ over a drink.

_How's that girl of yours, Jay? You're looking good as new, Freddie boy. Want to see my latest trick?_

His _best_ friend. His brother. Not Cook.

It had never been Cook. Even in those hopeless moments during Effy's depression, Cook had only been there to make himself feel better. Cook had tunnel vision that only saw through to Cook and Effy. _Effy and Cook._

Speaking of –

"Where the fuck is my boyfriend?" Katie asked, coming over to them.

"Ugh, _please _don't call him that," Emily murmured, following behind her.

They looked around. As always, Cook had pulled a disappearing act. Katie pulled out her phone, texting him like mad. JJ searched the crowd. And then there was Effy.

Bursting into the room.

Effy, _crying_, bursting into the room.

"Love, what's wrong?" Freddie asked, taking her into his arms. She dug her face into the crook of his neck.

"I just…I didn't mean to…Can we please just go? I really want to go," she whimpered. Freddie nodded, helping her stand up straight. They were just about to find their coats when –

"Aw, leaving so soon?" Cook called, entering the room from the direction Effy had just come. Freddie frowned, gently tugging Effy behind him.

"_You_. Aren't you done fucking everyone's lives, Cook?"

"Me? I saved your _fucking _life, mate," Cook said, tossing his drink to the side. Freddie shook his head, blowing smoke in Cook's face. The whole room was looking at them now. JJ shifted nervously on his feet. Effy placed her hand on Freddie's shoulder.

"Freddie - " she whispered.

"That's just like you, Cook," Freddie spat, pushing Cook backwards. "Nothing with you is free. You saved my life? Do you own my fucking soul now, then? Then I'd like to collect payment for the time you shagged my sister. Or all of the times you almost got JJ and me killed. Or how about the fact that you _fucked _the love of my life with no shame." Every one of Cook's crimes came with another shove against his chest.

"Yeah? The love of your life? She wasn't talking that way a minute ago," Cook said, smiling. "Were you, cupcake?"

"Cook, don't," Effy whispered. A hush fell across the room.

"Effy, what the fuck is he talking about?"

"I don't…" But there was no need for explanation. No _time_. Freddie's fist went flying at Cook's face. And there was a tumble of punches and slaps and bangs. And Freddie's wounds were too fresh for this, too open. Freddie felt the hits, heard the screaming, but it wasn't real. It was like he was far away, watching all of it from the corner of the room.

Seventeen years of friendship reduced to this.

And through it came Effy's voice, Effy screaming for them to _stop – please stop. _Then Effy was in the middle, right between them, but they were too heated. Couldn't stop in time. Not enough time. Not enough _space _because both their fists came flying.

And Effy hit the floor.

"Effy – "

But Cook didn't notice. He didn't notice anything. He understood Freddie's pause as a moment of weakness, pummeling at him. And there was bleeding. And a security guard. And Katie crying. And Cook and Freddie being pulled to opposite ends of the room. Eery silence. A ruined party. Deep breaths.

And JJ right in the middle, saying the one thing Freddie had never wanted to hear again.

"Guys…Effy's gone."

* * *

**Next Time:**

"What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" the man huffed, shooting Effy a pervy smile. She just stared back. _How nice it was. To not speak again. To live inside her own head._

_There were enough people to talk to in there._

_Enough…_

She let hands guide her into the darkness. Hands on her shoulders, her arms, and other places. _Freddie's places._ Not Freddie's. _Freddie's._

She didn't know where she was or where they were taking her. There were people and lights and music that deafened her. It consumed her. And she let it. _This _was right. This was her.

Destroy yourself before anyone else can do it first.

_No, but – _

Yes.

Pills on her tongue, smoke on her lips, whiskey down her throat.

And somewhere, somehere in the darkness within her was a tiny spark of light, a little voice. _Help. Effy, please. Don't do this. _The new Effy.

And then there was a needle, a slap on her arm, a rush to her head.

_Effy – _

Darkness.


	6. Gone Again

"I want a lover I don't have to love. I want a boy who's so drunk he doesn't talk. Where's the kid with the chemicals? I thought I'd meet him here, but I'm not sure." **–Bettie Serveert (_Lover I Don't Have to Love_)**

* * *

**_Effy_**

She didn't give a _fuck._

Effy stumbled through the streets of Bristol with empty eyes and tottering steps. Ripped tights, a black dress, and days-old black liner that ran down from her eyes like tears.

But she didn't give a fuck [not one].

Nobody had seen Effy for weeks, not since jumping into Cook and Freddie's fight had left her with a nasty bruise to the back of her head. They were so up on themselves, pretending that it was always her fault, pretending that _she _had ruined their friendship.

But Cook and Freddie had been fucked up long before Effy had come along, and she was done dancing in the middle of their madness.

She much preferred wallowing in her newfound anonymity. Out here, no one knew crazy Effy, crying Effy, depressed and mental Effy. She could be anybody she wanted, and she was back to square one.

What a fucking lovely place to be.

And nobody could stop her.

Not Anthea – _Effy, please. Come home. Don't destroy yourself again. I'm so worried about you. _

Not Cook – _Come on, princess. This is the fifth time I give you a ring. Pick up the fucking phone, yeah?_

Not Freddie – _Effy, I know you're there. Why the fuck are you doing this? Just let me talk to you. I'm sorry, okay? Don't do this – don't break us._

Effy took another drag of her cigarette, blowing circles of smoke into the night air. Each one vanished like all of their faces.

_You destroy everything you touch._

Yes, she supposed she did.

"Well then. Look at what we've found here." Effy's eyes peered through the haze of smoke, focusing in on the boy standing in front of her. Bright blue eyes, tan skin, kind of looked like a tosser with that fitted leather jacket…

"It's me, Mike. We hooked up a few months back, yeah? How come you've been missing my calls?"

_Jesus. _Drunken hook up Mike. Of course she remembered him. He'd been right after – right after screaming and divorce and a knock on the door and dirty jeans and green eyes and a skull bracelet.

_We'd be good together, don't you think? _

_No._

_Why not?_

_I'll break your heart._

_Maybe I'll break yours._

Nobody broke her fucking heart, Freddie. You should've known better.

"Hey," she replied, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Hey, baby," Mike smirked, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "Looking for some company tonight?"

"No."

"Because there's this really great club opening up," Mike continued, as if he hadn't even bloody heard her. _Wanker._ "It's called Dark Matter, and it's going to be this fucking trippy underground shit. I've got some pills and a ton of spliff. My treat. What do you say?"

Effy closed her eyes, debating whether or not spending the night with this idiot was worth all of the free drugs. She'd probably have to put out, and he was far from a top dollar shag.

But fuck it.

Fuck _everything_.

"Fine."

* * *

Dark Matter was a twenty-minute walk, and Mike talked to her the whole fucking time – as if they were old friends catching up. Effy ignored the mind-numbing prattling, watching as his eyebrows waggled in the most comical way she'd ever seen. _Jesus. He was like a fucking cartoon character._

They walked up to a dingy black door at the end of an alley [an alley you would only know to avoid if you were sober]. Mike knocked like a wanker, tapping his fists to the rhythm of a stupid little jingle. Effy rolled her eyes and burnt out her smoke.

A burly man opened the door. He and Mike exchanged a few dumb words until he finally noticed Effy. He raked his eyes over her [practically eye-fucking her, is what that was]. Effy nearly gagged. He was probably twice her age, five times her size, and bloody smelled like arse.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" the man huffed, shooting Effy a pervy smile. She just stared back. _How nice it was. To not speak again. To live inside her own head._

_There were enough people to talk to in there._

_Enough…_

She let Mike's clammy hands guide her into the darkness. Hands on her shoulders, her arms, and other places. _Freddie's places._ Not Freddie's. _Freddie's._

No, _nobody's_. Effy Stonem didn't fucking belong to anyone. She didn't have to be upset. She didn't have to be anyone but her. She'd been stupid to think that she could be anyone's girlfriend, anyone's constant, anyone's _anything_.

Effy Stonem didn't give a fuck.

And she was going to go out with a bang.

She didn't know [or care] where they were taking her. There were people and lights and music that deafened her. It consumed her. And she let it. _This _was right. This was her.

Destroy yourself before anyone else can do it first.

_No, but – _

Yes.

Pills on her tongue, smoke on her lips, whiskey down her throat.

And somewhere, somehere in the darkness within her was a tiny spark of light, a little voice. _Help. Effy, please. Don't do this. _

And then there was a needle, a slap on her arm, a rush to her head.

_Effy – _

Darkness.

* * *

**Next Time:**

"You've got a little something on your face there, mate," Cook said, pointing to Freddie's fading black eye. The one Cook had put there just last week. He grinned.

And they burst out laughing. It felt good. _Really bloody good. _Yeah, they were fucked up. No, they probably weren't best friends anymore [what _were _best friends, anyway?] But they were still Cook and Freddie. They could still laugh at the end of the day.

And there was something to be said about that.

"We're back to where we started then, yeah?" Freddie muttered, passing Cook the spliff in his hand. "Still duking it out over Eff."

"'Course we are," Cook laughed. "She's fucking Effy Stonem. Replace us with two other guys, they'd be doing the same thing." Freddie nodded, staring at their picture, still hanging in his shed after all this time. The bloody musketeers.

"I'd do anything for her, Cook," Freddie said. "Anything."

"So would I."

"And she might be trashed and lost and going mental again, but my _girlfriend _is still in there," Freddie said. "Mine. I'm not packing my bag anytime soon. I'm not giving up this time."

Cook nodded, meeting Freddie's eyes.

"And neither am I."


	7. Fix You

"Lights will guide you home. And ignite your bones. And I will try to fix you." **– Coldplay (****_Fix You_****)**

* * *

**_Freddie_**

Freddie woke up to nothing.

_No head curled into his neck. No arm hanging limply on his chest. No missed calls_.

Just a buzzing reminder on his phone that he'd set for today: Effy's birthday.

Great. Fucking great.

He followed his newly adopted morning routine, dialing her number and counting the rings.

_Hey, this is Effy. I'm not here, so don't call back._

"Happy Birthday, Eff. I don't know if you're listening to my messages, or if you even care. But I hope that you know that I'm not going to stop looking for you. You don't get to walk away, Effy. You don't. We're too strong. Together, we're _everything_. And I'm not going to give up, yeah? I love you. I love you so fucking much."

Freddie exhaled, throwing his phone against the floor. He felt like he was the only one who was even fucking trying to find her anymore. Anthea had gone into train wreck mode, turning the Stonem household into a smokehouse. After Effy's last stunt, the Bristol police were less worried about calling a search. The rest of the gang was too buzzed up about their last summer together to give a shit about Effy. Only Pandora occasionally gave him a call, if that even counted. _Heard from Eff? Blimey, Freds. You know how she is. Probably gonna come back in a few days all smiley and loopy, maybe a little drugged up. Maybe she's gone on a holiday for herself. Maybe – _

That had been seventeen days ago.

Nobody fucking _understood_. No one else had been there when Freddie had. Yeah, they all thought that Effy was _so pretty and fit and mysterious, just the fucking life of the party_. But who had stood by Effy when her world was falling apart? Who'd been there through all of the scary shit?

_Nobody cares. But you do, and it's killing you._

Freddie was on his own.

"_Freddie! _You bloody promised that you'd help me redo my room. You know that I can't move all of it on my own," Karen yelled, bursting into his room. Jesus. What was this, the fucking meeting ground for the Bitch-At-Freddie club?

"Not today, Karen."

"Why not?"

"I'm making the rounds to a few of Effy's friends from primary. See if they know anything," Freddie said, pulling on a plaid shirt and worn jeans over his boxers.

"At it again? When are you going to realize that she's playing games with you, Freddie?"

"Don't start this. I've got to go." Karen stopped him, tugging at his shirt and blocking the door.

"When are you going to give it up? When is she going to stop being the fucking center of the world? It's _always _about her."

"No, Karen. This is about me. _Me _not wanting to be without her. Not if I can help it," he said, pushing past her. Karen raced behind him down the stairs, _never _fucking leaving him be.

Just as Freddie began to twist the door knob, Karen slid in front of it.

"Just hear me out," she said, putting a gentle hand on his chest.

"What is it, Karen?"

"Freddie, what if she doesn't want to be found? What if you do all of this, and she just rejects you again? Goes and shags Cook. What will you do then?"

"I'll still love her. Now get out of my way."

"Jesus, Freddie. She's probably dead in some ditch somewhere. She doesn't care about you. She doesn't even care about herself. Am I the only one who sees that your stitches are _still _healing from that sicko therapist? You nearly diedbecause of her."

Freddie slammed his fist against the door, shoving Karen out of the way.

"No. I nearly died _for _her, and I'll never regret that. Now stay out of my fucking business."

* * *

Freddie walked for hours and came up with absolutely nothing.

It was true. Effy didn't have friends. Effy had set up her life for these escapes – nobody to keep tabs on her, nobody who cared just enough. She preferred it that way, probably enjoyed it.

Which was why she and Freddie had so many goddamn problems.

She wanted freedom, and he cared too much.

Freddie turned the corner, finally back home. He thought of going in through the front door but thought better of it. Karen had probably decided to host another intervention with his father, and he couldn't handle it. It was like explaining the sun to the stars. Useless.

"Hey Freds," he heard a familiar voice call from the garden. Freddie rolled his eyes. Just what he needed.

Cook.

But for once, Cook wasn't a bumbling drunk, disturbing everyone's fucking peace. He was sobered up, sitting on Freddie's bench in a clean white t-shirt and slacks. Freddie frowned. What was he trying to pull now?

"What are you doing here, Cook? Isn't this getting a bit old?"

"I heard you were trying to gather up the gang to find Effy."

"Why do you care?" Freddie asked, narrowing his eyes. He walked into the shed, Cook following behind him.

"I want to help," Cook insisted, determination lighting up his eyes. Freddie paused, turning to him.

"Don't you think you've helped enough? Do you not _fucking _remember why she left in the first place?"

"I fucking know, alright? I know. I fucked up. I'm always fucking up. I just want to find her, alright?" Cook fell back against the couch, hunching over. Freddie shook his head and sat at the far end of the shed, glaring.

"And what then, Cook? What happens after we find her?"

"I don't know, mate. I just…we want the same thing. I want her home. You want her safe. Please," Cook pleaded. Freddie flinched, feeling himself give in. They sat there in silence, measuring each other with their eyes.

And then Freddie remembered.

"What happened between you and Effy the night of that party?"

Cook's eyes lit up. He smiled.

"I shagged her."

_He would fucking kill him. He was going to fucking murder Cook right there and then._

"Jesus, Freds. I'm only fucking kidding. Calm your balls, yeah? You should've seen your face. Eff and I just talked, and she got a little upset. That's all."

_Jesus. Only Cook, only fucking Cook._

Freddie shook his head again, stared at the wall.

"Hey, you've got a little something on your face there, mate," Cook said, pointing to Freddie's fading black eye. The one Cook had put there just last week. He grinned.

And they burst out laughing.

It felt good. _Really bloody good. _

Yeah, they were fucked up. No, they probably weren't best friends anymore. But they were still Cook and Freddie. They could still laugh at the end of the day.

And there was something to be said about that.

"We're back to where we started then, yeah?" Freddie muttered. "Still duking it out over Eff."

"'Course we are," Cook laughed. "She's fucking Effy Stonem. Replace us with two other guys, they'd be doing the same thing." Freddie nodded, staring at their picture, still hanging in his shed after all this time. The bloody musketeers.

"I'd do anything for her, Cook," Freddie said. "Anything."

"So would I."

"And she might be trashed and lost and going mental, but my _girlfriend _is still in there," Freddie said. "Mine. I'm not packing my bag anytime soon. I'm not giving up this time."

Cook nodded, meeting Freddie's eyes.

"And neither am I."

"Freddie! And…Cook?" Karen called, interrupting them. "Whatever. Some guy is here to see you."

"About what?"

"Don't know. He's asking 'bout your marvelous Effy," Karen said, rolling her eyes.

Freddie and Cook nearly sprinted to the front door.

"Hello?" Freddie called to the boy sitting on Freddie's steps. The boy looked up, and Freddie took a step back. He looked so familiar. Bright blue eyes, dark hair, wicked grin. He looked just like –

"You're Effy's friends, yeah?" the boy asked, standing up.

"Who's asking?" Cook called from behind Freddie.

The boy pulled a smoke from his pocket, taking his time to light it up and take a drag. He nodded at both them, blowing out smoke.

"I'm Tony," he said. "Tony Stonem."

* * *

**Next Time:**

Effy closed her eyes, raking her fingers through her hair, scratching at her skin. _What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?_

She saw faces everywhere, hands reaching out and trying to grab her. She cried out, pulling at her sweater, tripping over invisible rocks. [Just get off me, leave me alone, please just -]

_Just open your eyes, Effy. Open your eyes, and you'll be home. _

Effy opened her eyes, squinted into the darkness.

Freddie.


	8. Breakable

_"And we are so fragile, and our cracking bones make noise. And we are just, breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys." _**- Ingrid Michaelson (****_Breakable_****)**

* * *

_**Effy**_

Effy woke up to sirens. She groaned, squinting her eyes into the darkness. Her cheek was cut up from the gravel underneath her, and her back was stiff. _Where am I where am I where am I? _Voices in her head, waking her up, making her dizzy. She couldn't see. Why couldn't she see?

The sound of cars whizzed past her, honking loudly as they grew near. [What the _fuck_?] She focused on the source of the noise, making out streams of headlights all around. She closed her eyes, shook her head. _I want to be scared. I want to be scared. I'm not scared._

Effy slammed her fists against her head, raking her nails against the skin there. Clawing the monsters out. _Effy wants to be scared. Effy wants to feel._

_"_Shut up!" she screamed at them. Headlights became ghosts, and ghosts became monsters, and they _wanted _her. They wanted to get her. They were going to fucking get her. "Go away. Shut the fuck up. Leave me alone." Effy rocked back and forth, hitting herself again and again. She still felt the shots of heroin rushing through her blood. [_Under your skin, under your skin._]

_Clawing out, clawing out. _

Effy closed her eyes, trying to remember. A safe place. Any place.

And Freddie's face. _A tab with your name on it. _

"Freddie, please! Freddie, help me," she cried to no one. To nothing. She was alone. She was alone, and they loved it. The shadows laughed and danced around her. And the headlights illuminated her like, _she can't hide_. She can never hide. Because they were surrounding her.

They were inside of her.

They _were _her.

* * *

Effy woke again to music. Pulsating beats, grinding bodies, sweat dripping. Her head had been empty, but her body was moving, flowing against the crowd. She let the current take her, let hands and fingers drown her. _Empty empty empty._

There were faces, real faces, faces in her head. She closed her eyes and gasped for breath. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't - she needed -

And then shaking. There were hands on her shoulders, shaking her, forcing her to face their owner. A boy with blue eyes. Blue eyes, not green. _Bluenotgreen. Not Freddie. _She watched his lips form words, watched his face come closer.

_Not Freddie. _

"You okay?" he screamed at her, and she flinched. _You okay you okay you okay? _Not okay. Not okay. Not okay. Effy fell into him, dug her face into his chest, pretending.

"Freddie," she whispered in his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Not Freddie. I'm Aaron," the boy said, lifting her up. Effy shook her head, eyes dazed and out of focus. She willed him to be Freddie, and he was. His skin tanned, eyes blazed emerald, hair fell side swept over his forehead.

"You're Freddie," she repeated, smiling. The boy shrugged, hoisting her up again.

"Alright," he said, parting her lips with his finger. She felt tabs sliding onto her tongue. "I'll be Freddie, then. Yeah?"

She nodded her head, closing her eyes as the rush came.

"Yeah."

* * *

Effy is - Effy can't - Effy didn't know if she was really awake this time. Had it been two days? Two weeks? Two months? What a trippy feeling, walking in and out of your own life.

She was sprawled out on a dirty couch, a drink in her hand, a smoke in the other. She took a bit of both. _Not Freddie _sat next to her, hands on her. Hands all over her.

_Off, off, off. _He wasn't Freddie. This wasn't... She tried to speak, but everything was numb.

_Just open your eyes, Effy. Open your eyes, and you'll be home._

_"_Get your _fucking _hands off my girlfriend."

Effy opened her eyes.

Freddie.

* * *

"Are you real?" she marveled, poking at Freddie's arm. He lifted her over his shoulder, her bum in the air and arms hanging in front of her. _Woah, she was flying. Magic._

Effy poked him again, pinching his skin.

"Quit it, Effy. Please. I just need to get you out of here," Freddie said, pushing through the crowds of people. _Excuse me. Move. Get out of the fucking way, yeah? _And Effy felt like..._magic_.

Finally, they came to an empty corner of the room. Freddie set her on her feet, holding her elbows to keep her up. He put one hand on her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"Jesus, Effy," he said, stroking her cheek. "I thought you were...that you'd been...but you're alright."

"Me?" she chuckled, hearing her voice [but so very far away, so far]. "I'm perfect."

"Yeah," Freddie nodded, actually smiling. "Yeah, perfect."

"Thank fuck. You found her. Let's get out of this wanking fest, yeah?" Cook announced, walking up to them.

Cook? _Cook. _Effy smiled at him, stumbling forward. She raised a hand to put it on his cheek, but she missed. She stumbled forward, falling down, falling...

"Oh, fuck. What's she on?" That voice. _That _voice. Not Cook. Not Freddie. Someone else. Someone more.

Someone...

Tony.

Effy couldn't take her eyes off her brother. It had been so long. He had left her. He had left her when she needed him. But now he was _here _when she needed him. And everything was a blur.

_TonyCookFreddie. They're all here. They can all fight the monsters. Tony because he's cool. Cook because he's brave. Freddie because he loves._

They would fight them. Like magic.

Effy smiled before falling to the floor.

* * *

**Next Time: **

"So, you fancy my sister? Didn't she warn you that she'd rip your heart to shreds?" Tony asked, giving Freddie a light slap on the back. Freddie laughed, hanging his head.

"Actually, she did," Freddie murmured. "She's been like that, then? Like, always?"

Tony shook his head, lighting up a smoke. They both stared at Effy, dozed off on the bed. Her lips were parted and her eyelids fluttered. She looked so at peace.

"Effy's not like most people. Everything she says, everything she does is for a reason, you know?" Tony said. "She didn't talk for years, but Effy said more than anyone I ever knew. She's got a weird way of showing things. She's got a weird way of telling you what she means."

"And what does she mean by this then?"

"That she needs you."


	9. Eyes Wide Shut

"I am getting nowhere with you. And I can't let it go. And I can't get through. I am drawing the story of how hard we tried, how hard we tried, how hard we tried." **– Ani DiFranco (Both Hands)**

* * *

**_Freddie_**

There they were again.

Freddie and Effy were never going to be fucking happy. They were pain and hurt and betrayal and _broken. _But that was it. There were glimmers of hope, joy that shone in through the cracks. But they would never have the whole thing.

It would never be over.

Freddie gripped her legs tighter, struggling to carry Effy the five blocks down to where they'd parked. In front of him, Cook and Tony talked. _What the fuck did they have to talk about_? Freddie narrowed his eyes.

Tony Stonem was the last person Freddie had expected to show up at his doorstep three days ago. He'd always just been in bits and pieces of Effy's invisible past. Effy used to bring him up, always with a sad smile on her face. Then she'd always think better of it and change the subject. Freddie knew that Effy had seen her brother get slammed by a bus, but it was something more than that. Effy's voice broke whenever she'd talk about Tony. It was raw, uncensored emotion.

Totally not Effy.

They'd frequented every rave, party, and club they could get the details on in downtown Bristol. They'd shown up to this dump, _Dark Matter_, to find Effy half awake, nose bleeding, and some tosser with his hand up her skirt. Freddie had never been so fucking furious in his life

"Set her down in the back," Tony called, unlocking the car. "Just toss all of my shit on the floor. There should be space." Freddie nodded, carefully cradling Effy's head as he slid her in. He lifted her legs, placing them on his lap, and shut the door. Tony turned the car on, and Cook hopped in next to him.

Freddie watched as Effy stirred, frowning. Her eyes fluttered, like she couldn't keep them open. Freddie shook her shoulders.

"Effy, come on. Babe, you've got to stay awake for me, alright? You can't go to sleep yet," he pleaded, trying to sit her up. Effy groaned, squinting up at Freddie.

"It hurts," she murmured. She slid her hand from her stomach and grabbed Freddie's fingers. Freddie's stomach turned. Seeing her like this again…it was worse than last time. It made him sick.

"I know it does," he whispered, smoothing the hair back from her face. "But it's going to be okay. You just need to stay awake for me, yeah?" Effy nodded, a tear falling from her eye. She broke his gaze, staring up at the ceiling of the car.

"Don't puke in my car, sis," Tony called, smirking at her. "I'll never forgive you. That's leather interior – "

"Shut it, Tones," Effy mumbled, rolling her eyes.

"I'm here too, Eff," Cook called, grinning from the front seat. _Unbelievable_.

"Alright. Let's all shut it then. This isn't the time for a reunion," Freddie said, shaking his head at Cook. Cook's grin didn't falter. He just stared evenly at Effy's hand in Freddie's.

Thanks to Tony's ridiculous speeding abilities, they got to Effy's house in record time. The man _literally _drove over two sidewalks and nearly hit some poor old man. Freddie grinned, remembering. Guess he learned from his dad.

Anthea answered the door for them when they arrived. She looked like total shit, empty expression and saggy eyes. She barely greeted them, just nodded at her son. Then she noticed Effy, barely conscious in Freddie's arms.

"Mum, don't freak out. We've got her, and she's safe," Tony said, pushing past her. Cook and Freddie followed him in. But Anthea completely ignored him.

"Effy. Effy are you alright? Oh, my baby. I've got to call the hospital. I've got to – " Anthea started, eyes darting around like mad. Freddie's heart stopped. He reached out and grabbed Anthea, stopping her.

"No. No hospitals, Anthea. _Never _again," Freddie said. Anthea paused, seeing the mix of fear and anger in his eyes. Unspoken words drifted in the air between them. Neither of them needed to explain it. They both knew. They both remembered it.

_I don't like this place. Me neither._

A man with cold blue eyes.

A phone call.

A baseball bat.

A –

"Alright," Anthea relented. "Take her upstairs. But I'm calling my brother to come see her tomorrow. He used to practice nursing, and she needs to be attended to."

Freddie nodded, pulling Effy closer in his arms. He turned to take her up the stairs.

"Freddie?" Anthea called. Freddie stopped, turning to look at her again.

"Yeah?"

"You'll never know how much I love you for being there for my daughter. You saved her when I couldn't. And you're my hero, too."

Freddie nodded, offering her a smile.

"Thank you," he said and brought Effy up the stairs.

"Freddie, I just want to lie down," Effy whined. Freddie shook his head, leading her into the bathroom.

"No. Not yet. You've got to heave it all up. It's gross, but you need it out of your system," Freddie insisted. He set her down on the bathroom floor carefully. "Do you remember what you took?"

Effy shook her head, looking down at the floor. She sighed, slamming her head back against the tiled wall.

"Hey," Freddie said, lifting her head up. "Careful. Don't hurt yourself."

"I already have," Effy whispered, staring up at him in a daze.

"Yeah, well, not anymore. It's going to be fine," Freddie said. He took a wet towel from its hanger and slowly wiped her face of the black streaks and blood. Underneath all of the mess was pure, beautiful Effy.

"How do you do that?" she asked him when he was done.

"Do what?"

"Look at me like it's the first day you met me. Look at me like I haven't fucked your life up completely," she whispered.

"You haven't – "

"Why don't you just fucking give up, Freddie?"

"What?"

"I've done everything to keep you _away_. I can't stop myself from falling, but I'm not going to drag you down with me. You'd be so much happier without me. I want you to be without me."

"I can't," Freddie said. "I just can't." Effy frowned, her shoulders sagging forward. She looked like she was about to say something more until she clutched at her stomach, turning over to throw up in the toilet.

_Jesus_.

* * *

An hour later, there was finally quiet. Effy breathed evenly under her comforter, wrapped up in warm pajamas. Freddie sat on the edge of her bed, his head in his hands. A part of him felt so fucking _trapped_. Things would be so much easier if he just –

But no. The part of him that loved Effy shut him up right away. Maybe this was how it was supposed to be. Some people searched endlessly for the meaning of their life. Some people never found out. But Freddie already had.

He watched as Effy's chest rose and fell. That's what he was there for. _That's _why he was alive.

_Inhale._

_Exhale._

The door opened, and Freddie snapped out of his thoughts. Tony sauntered in, careful to shut the door quietly behind him.

"Your mate's downstairs, chatting up our mum," Tony said, quirking a brow. "Is he all together there?" Freddie laughed, shaking his head.

"I'm not sure most of the time."

Tony pulled up Effy's desk chair and sat across from Freddie. They sat there in silence for a moment. Two strangers, two completely different lives, connected only by the girl sleeping soundlessly in front of them. Effy was at the center of everything.

Effy was _everything_.

"So, you fancy my sister? Didn't she warn you that she'd rip your heart to shreds?" Tony asked, giving Freddie a light slap on the back. Freddie laughed, hanging his head.

"Actually, she did," Freddie murmured. "She's been like that, then? Like, always?"

Tony shook his head, lighting up a smoke. They both stared at Effy, dozed off on the bed. Her lips were parted and her eyelids fluttered. She looked so at peace.

"Effy's not like most people. Everything she says, everything she does is for a reason, you know?" Tony said. "She didn't talk for years, but Effy said more than anyone I ever knew. She's got a weird way of showing things. She's got a weird way of telling you what she means."

"And what does she mean by this then?"

"That she needs you. Like she used to need me," Tony said. "But I let her down."

"She doesn't need me. She just pushes me away. She just insists that she'd rather be on her own. And I don't know what to fucking do anymore."

"You keep trying," Tony said. "Or you're no better than your friend down there."

"You and him seemed rather chummy before," Freddie replied.

"Look, Freddie. Cook and I, we're the same. We both think we know what we want, but we both walk away when things are tough. I can see it in his face," Tony said.

"Yeah, but – "

"That's how I lost the girl that I loved when _I _was in college. That's how I'm losing my sister. Be better. Fight for her, alright?"  
"Okay," Freddie said, nodding.

"And Freddie?"

"Yeah?"

"You should really think about cutting your hair."


	10. Loving You

"I love you more than I should. So much more than is good for me. More than is good." **– Trespassers William (****_Lie in the Sound_****)**

* * *

**_Effy_**

"I don't think I'll ever forgive you," Effy whispered. She'd just woken up after – _God, how many days had it been_? She stumbled out of bed and found her brother reading some book in his old bedroom, legs kicked up without a care.

"Effy –"

"I was always there. _Always _there. And you couldn't even find the time to call me," Effy said. "What the _fuck_, Tony?"

"Eff, I'd just started college. It was hard for me to - "

"No, it was hard for _me_," Effy hissed, tears brimming in her eyes. "I had nobody. _Nobody_ else understood our parents. Nobody understood this hell."

"I'm sorry, Effy," Tony pleaded, standing up to face her. Effy shook her head, pushing at his chest.

She hit him hard, again and again.

_I hate you. _Hit. _Fucking wanker. _Hit. _I can't believe you left. _Hit, hit, hit.

And he took it.

He didn't flinch. He didn't hold her arms. He didn't run.

He waited.

Finally, she collapsed in his arms. She sobbed into his chest, completely exhausted.

"Where the fuck were you?" she cried. "Where the fuck have you been?" Tony sat her down, wrapping his arms around her while she cried.

And he cried too.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he mumbled into her hair. Effy nodded, quieting down. She sniffled, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her shirt.

"You're going to keep visiting."

"Yes."

"You're going to pick up your phone and call me when I'm going fucking mad."

"Yes."

"You're not going to disappear again. You're going to _be_ my brother."

"Yes, I am."

Effy nodded, straightening up and wiping her stray tears. She rolled her shoulders back and closed her eyes.

"Some shit you came back to, huh?" she murmured, staring down at her fingers.

"Yeah. You're just so…you're so different, Eff."

"I know," she said, shaking her head. "I'm weak. I'm afraid. I'm…"

"You've grown up," Tony finished, quirking his brow and smiling at her.

"What?"

"You've grown up. I can see it in your eyes. Before, you were just a kid. _I _was just a kid. And we were completely shitting on everything to protect ourselves. But you grew up, you gave all that up to care for someone else," Tony said, nudging her shoulder.

"Freddie," Effy whispered. She blinked away the tears before they came. "I don't even know what to do about him."

"You need to stop fucking around, Effy. What was it that you called me when I did the same thing to Michelle? A – "

"A fucking wanker," she finished, smiling. "Wanker, wanker, wanker."

They burst out laughing together, until Effy flinched. That had been the _day_. Tony and headlights and screaming and impact.

The bus.

Tony shook his head, recognizing the look on her face.

"Don't let the past make you scared, Eff. You don't live there anymore. And, you know, it turns out you were wrong."

"About what?"

"Love _is_ good for something. It's good for you," Tony said, poking the dimple on her cheek. Effy nodded. She believed him. She always had.

He was her big brother.

Tony nodded back, saying, "He's downstairs. His friend went off somewhere. But he's been here the whole time. Hasn't eaten a thing. Rather scary shit, actually."

Effy laughed, shaking her head.

"Thanks, Tony. For everything. From the beginning," Effy said, kissing his cheek. She stood to leave.

"Eh, it's easy enough. You don't fool me, Effy Stonem. You never have."

[_Sometimes I think you're the only person in the world Tony truly cares about._]

* * *

She found Freddie in the living room. The lights were all off, and he was staring at the blank television screen. His eyes were dark and empty, and the bags under them sunk down to his cheeks. His shoulders were hunched, bones pushing against his skin from the inside.

Effy took at all in. Was this the nervous boy who'd asked to take the locker next to hers two years ago? It couldn't be. She stared at the lines by his eyes, the stubble on his cheeks. The light was gone.

But he was a different sort of beautiful now. Like the rare good things that came from train wrecks. She remembered arguing with some stupid teacher in elementary school.

_"The expression is called a 'diamond in the rough.'"_

_"That's stupid. Why would a diamond be in the rough?"_

Now she understood.

Effy stepped into the room, and the floorboards creaked under her foot. It startled Freddie – really fucking _shocked _him. He raised his fist, eyes blazing with uncensored fear. When he saw that it was Effy, he relaxed slightly.

But his eyes.

_So afraid._

Effy sat next to him on the sofa. They didn't look at each other.

"Do you still get scared?" she asked.

"Most of the time."

"Of Foster?"

"No," Freddie sighed, turning to her. "Foster's not the only thing that scares me."

"Freddie – "

"What do you want me to fucking do?" Freddie asked, throwing his hands up. "What's going to happen to us? Is this it? Is this all there is?"

"Maybe," Effy whispered. "I don't know."

Freddie nodded, staring at the TV screen again. Effy shifted over to him, put her chin on his shoulder. She folded into him, and they _fit _like they always did. Freddie pulled her onto his lap, and she curled up against his chest. He slipped his fingers under the back of her shirt, trailing up her spine, ghosting over the bone there.

Playing her like a lyre.

Effy closed her eyes, breathing him in.

"I know that I love you," she whispered. "I know that."

"Then I'd like to start over. It's up to you now. I'd like you to try for me, Eff."

_But Effy didn't try. Effy never tried. Effy couldn't try._

"I'll try."

"I'd like to take you on a date."

"What?" Effy asked, looking up at him. There was a glimmer in his eye – a mischievous spark.

"I'd like to fucking _date_ you, Effy. I want to spend my entire future doing everything with you by my side. I'd like to go see a bloody film. Maybe we'll go to university one day. Maybe we'll travel. Then I'd like to live in a tiny apartment and come home to you every night and _marry _you one day. I want everything with you, Effy Stonem."

Effy's eyes widened, at a loss for words.

For the first time.

"But first," he added. "I need you to say yes."


	11. Someone Like Her

"You know that I could use somebody. Someone like you, and all you know, and how you speak. Countless lovers under cover of the street." **– Kings of Leon (****_Someone Like You_****)**

* * *

**_Cook_**

"Oh, fuck. _Fuck _yes," Cook groaned, eyes shut tight. He moved again and again, hands slamming against the headboard. "Oh _fuck_, Effy."

"Um, excuse me. But what the _fuck_ did you just call me?" called a voice from under him. It was high and squeaky, not Effy's raspy tone. Cook stopped his thrusting and opened his eyes.

Effy faded away. Auburn hair replaced dark brown waves. Stark blue eyes darkened into dull brown ones.

Katie.

_Shit._

She slapped his chest, pushing him away.

"Babe – " he tried half-heartedly. Katie slapped him again, raising her sheets to cover herself.

"Yeah. You can just about fuck off now," she hissed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Cook hesitated, dying to make a run for the door to light the spliff in his back pocket. He'd need a fucking holiday after Katie was done with him, he could tell.

But he stopped himself. He had to stick around, show Effy what she was missing long enough to win her back. It was all he had left. JJ had called it "a plan of potentially disastrous proportions."

Whatever that meant.

Cook leaned over on the bed, sliding his hand up Katie's thigh.

"Come on, sweet cheeks," he said, grinning. "Was an honest mistake, yeah?"

"No. It was an honest mistake to think that either of you tossers could possibly be over the marvelous Effy Stonem by now," Katie said, rolling her eyes. She grabbed his pile of clothes from the floor. She threw them out of her door, and they went flying down the stairs.

"Fucking _hell_, woman," Cook cried. "Your 'rents are home, and I'm fucking naked."

Kate smiled and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Better hop to it then," she said sweetly. She pushed him into the hallway and slammed the door shut in his face. Cook cupped a hand over himself, cursing. As he turned to the stairs, he ran straight into Naomi.

"_Jesus_," she muttered under her breath. "Want to tell me why the fuck you're cupping your balls in my girlfriend's house?"

"It's my girl's house, too," Cook grinned, removing his hands and putting them on his hips. Naomi pretended to gag and rolled her eyes.

"If we were any other two people, this would be monumentally awkward," Naomi sighed. "But of course it's _you_."

"I'd love to stay and chat, Naom's. But I'm sort of freezing my balls off," Cook said, pushing past her. Naomi looked over her shoulder and chuckled.

"Yeah, I can _see _that."

Outside, Cook shrugged his clothes on and made his way…nowhere. All Cook could do was fucking wander now. Even JJ had more of a life than he did, set up with his own little family while Cook couldn't even get his girls straight.

Cook kicked at the ground, glancing around the empty streets.

"Fuck it," he muttered, planting down on the curb. He lit up the spliff and closed his eyes as he inhaled. What the _fuck _was he supposed to do now?

Of his friends, Cook knew that he was the one no one really wanted around. He was the fucking burden. _Waste of space. Criminal. _

_Nothing._

Cook shook his head and took another drag.

Maybe Naomi and Emily didn't mind him for a few laughs, but that's all he was. A bloody joke. Panda and Thomas weren't exactly in line to be his new best mates. He'd cocked things up with Katie, as he probably always would. He just didn't fucking love her.

He didn't know what he and Freddie were anymore. After putting that dick, Foster, in jail – he'd expected to come home to fanfare. Maybe it was his turn to be the hero. But any chance of that was gone when he'd made Effy a competition again, losing his best mate. He couldn't exactly say sorry to that and be done with it.

But Effy…there was fucking _hope _there. No one could tell him otherwise. Maybe he couldn't be her Prince Charming or whatever. Maybe he couldn't save her like Freddie always did.

But they were _Cook and Effy_.

They could go down together.

Maybe he would have grown the fuck up and moved on if it hadn't been for that party at the pub. He wasn't the only one who was guilty here. He wasn't the only one who didn't know what he wanted.

He closed his eyes, remembering that night, finding Effy smoking in the back alley.

_"Look at what I've found," Cook said, smiling. He shut the back door to the pub behind him. Effy barely acknowledged him. She pursed her lips and blew out a circle of smoke._

_"Hey."_

_Cook leaned on the wall next to her and lit up._

_"Where's your Freds?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her._

_"Where's your Katie?" she replied, expressionless. She crossed her arms over her chest._

_"Ah. Touché, Eff," he grinned. Suddenly, Effy stomped out her smoke and turned to face him. Her eyes met his. She walked towards him until he was completely backed against the wall._

_"When are you just going to fucking _stop, _Cook? These are people's lives that you're jerking around with." Her eyes were hard, her words cold. Cook found it harder to breathe._

_"I, um – "_

_"You say you love me."_

_"I do love you."_

_"Then stop coming between us. We're happy," she said. "I'm happy. You saved his life, and I'm grateful. But that's all. That's all there is."_

_"Are you sure?" he asked, taking her chin between his fingers, smoothing his thumb over her cheek. She opened her mouth to speak and faltered._

_"I – "_

_Cook pressed his lips to hers. He held her face, keeping her there. For a moment, just one moment, she fell into it. She closed her eyes, kissed him back, raised her hands to his chest and…_

_Pushed him away._

_"Fuck you, Cook," she spat, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. He went to reach for her, but she pulled away._

_"Eff – "_

_"I lied before," she said. "You're not good. You're not better. You're not _anything._"_

He was nothing.

Cook winced, feeling the sting of her words all over again. But through the pain, through her anger, there had been a moment.

Just one moment when she'd kissed him back.

And that was all he needed. He was _going _to get Effy back. The way he loved her wasn't just something you could let go of. For Cook, it wasn't something that just went away.

He just needed a plan. He needed help from someone who wanted to break Freddie and Effy up just as much as he did.

Cook pulled out his phone, scrolled through his contacts before he found her name.

She picked up after two rings.

"Hey, Karen."

* * *

**Next Time: **

Freddie looked up at the noise. Effy stood at the top of the stairs, and suddenly he just couldn't fucking _breathe_. He just couldn't –

Effy was wearing a strapless red dress, tight at the top until it swirled and swished around her knees. Her hair was pulled up, only a few pieces hanging around her face. Her eyes shone – _were they always that blue? – _and her lips were curved into a shy smile. Freddie placed a hand over his chest, making sure his heart wouldn't beat right out of it.

He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her, breathe her in, when she met him at the foot of the steps.

_No. _They were starting over.

This was a second chance.

"Hi," he said, grinning at her.

"Hello," she replied, eyes fixed on his.

"I was wondering if I could take you out this evening," he said, raising his arm. She slipped her arm through his and bit her lip.

"You know," she said, smiling up at him. "You can take anything if you want it enough."


	12. Starting Over

"See the girl with the broken smile. Ask her if she wants to stay awhile, and she will be loved. She will be loved." **– Maroon 5 (****_She Will Be Loved_****)**

* * *

_**Freddie**_

"No, mate," Freddie groaned into the phone. "Friday. Reservations for _this _Friday." He'd been trying to get two seats at some French restaurant that Effy really fancied, but the host was being bloody difficult. A fake French accent dripped all over his voice, making it impossible for them to understand each other.

"Ah, _oui_. This Friday, of course," the host trilled. "Why you do not say from beginning?"

"I did – " Freddie started, then paused. "Anyway, this Friday. I'll take _two _seats and – "

"No. _C'est impossible_. We are completely booked this Friday."

"But – "

_Click._

Freddie groaned, tossing his phone on his bed. Fucking tosser. His whole plan was going to shit. Effy had reluctantly agreed to start things over with him. She'd never been on a date before, and he was desperate to show her how _normal _and _good _it was. Dinner, a film, the works.

But he couldn't even do that properly.

There was a knock on his door, and Freddie glanced up in time to see his father walk in. He placed a basket full of clothes on Freddie's bed.

"I've done your laundry," he said. "Make sure you hang those shirts. You left them to wrinkle last time, and you looked like a homeless man for a week."

"Yeah, thanks," Freddie murmured, rolling his eyes. He waited for his father to leave again, but he didn't. He pulled a chair up in front of Freddie's bed and sat down. _Fucking great. Another lecture._

"I overheard your conversation on the phone," his father said, clasping his hands in front of him.

"Look Dad, I really don't have the time to – "

"Freddie, I'm going to tell you a story about your mother," his dad interrupted. Freddie paused, glancing up. He and his father rarely talked about what his mother was like _before_. It was always blame and suicide and paper swans. That was all Freddie could remember. It was hard to think that there was something else.

"Go on," he urged, turning his attention to his father.

"I met your mother when I was a bit older than you are now. We were just starting university, and my friends and I thought we were the fittest blokes on campus. I know it's hard to believe, but I was topnotch back then. Your father had a different girl every week."

Freddie tried not to scoff. _Yeah, that was very hard to believe._

"Anyway, I met your mother on the very first day. She just walked right in, paying no attention to any of the boys drooling over her. The way she carried herself…_well_…she was the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen," his father said, smiling at the memory.

"So, you asked her out?" Freddie asked.

"Of course I did. Used some horrible pickup line, too. Something about falling angels or traffic tickets," he laughed, shaking his head.

"And?"

"And she turned me down. Rejected me tremendously, actually. I think she laughed in my face," he sighed. Freddie nodded. He knew that feeling.

_I look at lots of people. That doesn't mean I want to get to know them_.

"So, how'd you get her attention?"

"Persistence. I followed your mother to her afterschool job everyday for three weeks. It was quite creepy of me, actually. She was working as a waitress in a pub five blocks down, and I would sit there for hours, ordering drinks and these nasty little appetizers. I always sat in her section. And every time she saw me, she'd mutter, 'You again?' Until this one day. One day she took her break and sat down with me. We had a conversation, talked on and on and almost got her fired. And then she agreed to give me a chance."

Freddie smiled, trying to picture his mother as a posh young teenager with Effy's coy smile. He tried to picture his father, too, but he couldn't imagine a time before the baldness.

"So, I blew my whole flimsy paycheck on renting this topless convertible, just for that night. I wanted her to think I was cool, you know? So I was going to take her to this five-star restaurant up by the cliffs. Wine and dine her, as they say."

"I bet she loved that," Freddie said. Maybe his father wasn't so behind on the times after all.

"She probably would have," his father laughed, "if it hadn't started to pour that night. You'd think we were in the Caribbean with the hurricane that passed. She got soaked, the car got soaked, and the engine flooded. We never even made it to the restaurant."

"_Jesus_," Freddie laughed. "You have shit luck."

"I don't think I do, though," his father said. "We ended up hiking back to the dormitories, ordered Chinese takeout and talked in blankets for hours, 'til it was the next day. Your father got _very _lucky that night and – "

"Oh, gross. I don't need to hear about all of that," Freddie said, pretending to gag. His father laughed at him.

"Look, son. What I'm trying to say is that when it's _real_, when you know it's meant to be or whatnot, you don't need anything else. I see the way you look at that girl, and I see the way she is around you. Your mother…she used to look at me that way too. Focus on what's important and leave all the rest behind."

Freddie nodded, his lips curling into a smile. This was probably the most they'd talked…_ever_.

But somehow it made up for the silence.

Freddie's dad got up to leave.

"Hey Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"She'd be proud of you," he said. "She'd have said the same thing."

His father turned, smiling. "Yeah, I'd like to think so."

* * *

Anthea opened the door for Freddie when he knocked on Friday night.

"_Well_, don't you look handsome. She's upstairs, hogging all the hot water as usual," she said, rolling her eyes. "_Effy! _Freddie's here. Hurry up, yeah?"

Freddie came in, anxiously adjusting the collar of his dress shirt. He didn't know why he was so nervous. It wasn't like it was their first date. Not really. How could they count this as a first date after _everything _they'd been through?

Breakups.

Fuck ups.

Makeups.

"Freds?"

Freddie looked up at the noise. Effy stood at the top of the stairs, and suddenly he just couldn't fucking _breathe_. He just couldn't –

Effy was wearing a strapless red dress, tight at the top until it swirled and swished around her knees. Her hair was pulled up, only a few pieces hanging around her face. Her eyes shone – _were they always that blue? – _and her lips were curved into a shy smile. Freddie placed a hand over his chest, making sure his heart wouldn't beat right out of it.

He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her, breathe her in, when she met him at the foot of the steps.

_No. _They were starting over.

This was a second chance.

"Hi," he said, grinning at her.

"Hello," she replied, eyes fixed on his.

"I was wondering if I could take you out this evening," he said, raising his arm. She slipped her arm through his and bit her lip.

"You know," she said, smiling up at him. "You can take anything if you want it enough." He laughed. And it almost seemed ridiculous, having to go all the way back to that to move forward.

He felt like he was sixteen again, falling in love with Effy Stonem at first sight.

"Oh, let me get a picture of you two," Anthea cooed. "You look like little adults."

"_Mum__,_please," Effy hissed, rolling her eyes. "We're off now, okay? Don't wait up."

"But – "

"Bye."

Once they were outside, he watched Effy close her eyes against the burst of night air. She was so carefree.

She was so perfect.

"I hope this is alright," she said, gesturing down at her dress. "I didn't know where we were going and…" She trailed off as they stopped in front of the all too familiar rickshaw parked in front of her house. The driver on the bicycle winked at her as Freddie led her to it.

"The dress is beautiful. And you're beautiful. So hop in," he said. He tugged at her arm, but she wouldn't budge.

"No. _No_. I am so not getting in that death trap again," she said, frowning.

"Come on, Eff. Live a little," he teased.

"_You're _telling _me _to live a little?" she chuckled. Effy relented, tucking her dress underneath her as she sat next to him on the cold bench. He wrapped an arm around her, tucking her into his side.

And they were off.

Ten minutes into the ride, Effy shifted in her seat. "You going to tell me where we're heading?"

Freddie shook his head, pretending to close an invisible zipper across his lips. She rolled her eyes at him but cracked a smile. _And this is who they were_. He wasn't cool or built or rich. But that was why she loved him.

That was why they worked.

The rickshaw came to a stop in front of two huge gates, and Freddie patted the driver on the shoulder before helping Effy out. He watched her features shrink into a frown in the darkness as she stared up at the iron poles.

"How well can you climb?" he asked, taking a head start. He pulled himself up onto to metal, hovering over the spikes. When he had a steady grip, he held his hand out to her.

"What the fuck, Freddie?" Effy said, taking a step toward him. "I thought this was a date, not some sort of bank robbery."

"Well," Freddie said. "didn't want things getting too boring, yeah?"

Effy smiled, taking his hand as she pulled herself up after him. They jumped together, landing on the grass on the other side. Together, they trudged up a tall hill, getting mud on their boots and panting when they neared the top.

"_Jesus_, Freddie. If you're taking me up here to murder me, I – " Effy paused when they got to the top of the hill. In front of them was the entirety of Bristol.

_All of it. Right there._

Lights twinkled against the water, buildings rose from the night fog, and the _moon_. She'd never seen it that bright. She'd never seen the city like this.

"_Oh_."

"I've brought some biscuits and sandwiches," Freddie said, pulling a bag from behind one of the cliff's rocks. "And a bit of spliff, too. I thought we could just sit here and talk. I thought it would be…nice."

"Freddie," she whispered, taking all of it in.

"I know it's not much. My mother took us by here a long time ago, and I just thought…" Freddie trailed off, shoving his hands into his pockets. "But we can still go out to eat if you want. I mean, if you don't like it we can – "

"_Freddie_," Effy repeated, silencing him.

"Yeah?" he asked. She smiled at him, and his heart jumped.

"I totally," she said, "completely fucking love you."


End file.
